The Iron Road from Skye

Storyline: A Glimpse of Scotland

“ it does have a remarkable sense of connecting somewhere to nowhere through a lot of, er, nowhere.” (Benedict le Vay, Britain from the Rails)”

(In this quote, Inverness is somewhere and Skye is nowhere, however having just left the busiest rural area we’ve ever experienced, maybe the nowhere should be renamed Skyemania)

The Skye railway from Inverness to Kyle of Lochalsh is also known as the Iron Road to Skye. We took it from Kyle to Inverness thus the title of this post. It is also known by some as the most beautiful line in Europe. Another absolutely spectacular train line taking us across the country through the wild mountains, rocks, rivers and lochs. Away from the brutal Atlantic weather that we experienced in Skye to the chilly North Sea at Inverness, in some two and a half hours.

Having completed the Carlisle to Settle run in the spring and the West Highland Line just a few days ago we were happy to take yet another highly-rated railway. Talk about timing and luck with the weather. Just when we were about to leave Skye the skies cleared and the sun shone. The crossing here from Skye to the mainland is a bridge, so no more ferries for me.

We stopped in the small village of Kyleakin for some photos and then drove over the bridge to Kyle of Lochalsh.

We had time to walk around, return the rental car, take some photos, then before the next rain shower take shelter under the eaves of the small train station.

The station has one platform on each side, but an outside sitting area on just one. As we sat chatting with a couple from Boston on what we thought was the correct platform, the train quietly arrived unseen on the other side of the station. Had I not noticed people dragging suitcases from what appeared to be nowhere and quickly peeked from where this gang actually came, we would have chatted away the train.

Others followed us as we boarded the train. We waved goodbye to Skye as the train sped along beside the sea, leaving behind the mountains, the Crowlin Islands, then Plocton bay and finally the Strome narrows as it headed inland.

The scenery changed from unforgivingly rugged and dramatic at the Atlantic to familiar and pastoral just around Stratchcarron. Rolling hills, what they still call mountains here, grazing sheep and cattle dotting the valleys and endless bales of new-mown hay.

This part of Scotland reminded me my motherland, Bulgaria. And then more lochs, rivers and rocks and fishing ports until we reached Dingwall and eventually the Caledonia Canal and North Sea. This line was built with no tunnels or viaducts (with only local funding) and had many obstacles from the mostly English landowners, who wanted to keep the properties it crossed all for themselves.

All in all it was a delightful trip that set us up well for our short stay in Inverness.